Beyond These Bars
by Eryessa
Summary: An AU story starring the Shield with cameos from other inmates, I mean WWE superstars. Seth Rollins makes a personal ad, Rose Miller responds to his ad. Dean Ambrose actually knows Rose from his life out of prison and Roman some how involves himself in Seth's friendship to Rose. The issue, someone is out to ruin Rose's new found friendships, which is turning steamy. Now Rated M.
1. Chapter 1

In an effort to block the blow coming towards his head, the inmate put up his arm to block it. But the lock and sock easily busted his wrist and the pursuer raised his arm for another swing. All joy his attacker had was there; it was written on his face like the words in a book.

"I think he's had enough, Rollins." The man behind the attacker said, grabbing his friend's shoulder. "Don't want another write up again, do you?"

Brown eyes met sky blue eyes. Shoving the improvised weapon into his pocket, Seth Rollins looked down at the man that he had been pummeling earlier. The man was curled into a ball, even though he had just had that shit beat out of him the man hardly made a sound. It's the code that inmates lived by.

"That's what snitches get." A third man said from where he was standing watch over at the door. "They swallow their own blood."

Roman Reigns, the enforcer for The Shield, always scared anyone. Demented Dean Ambrose knew ways to get someone to talk, snitch or admit to even the littlest infraction. That just left the oddball one. Rollins gave the impression of being a werewolf, hence why he was often called The Wolf. He was a fast one, always running the track during their hourly recreational time. Not as big as his counterparts, he made up for the love of attacking people physically just for the fun of it. Just like this moment.

The inmate that had been beaten looked at the three men. As the three looked down at him, he knew he had to do something. But snitches were killed. They were ranked with the child molesters, children killers and rapists. Regardless of what he was in prison for, he was still a snitch. And prison politics dictates that no one snitches on others.

"Understood?" Dean leaned down and looked at the man in the face.

Blood trickled from his now busted nose. There was a coppery tint to his black hair and a busted lip the oozed slightly. In the pain he was in, the man merely nodded, showing that he understood exactly what he had coming to him if he let his mouth run away from him again.

"Good. We don't want to have to visit you a second time." Dean painfully gripped the man's shoulder, pressing his thumb into a pressure point on his collar bone. "Keep your fucking mouth shut next time or you'll be loosing more teeth."

And with that, the three Florida inmates exited the cell and walked out onto the top tier of the range.

The prison had three stories in this cell block. High windows gave only moderate light. Each cell held a light of it's own but it was shared between two people. Glancing up, Seth spotted the high sun, marking the midpoint in the day.

"Lunch will be served soon." Seth said as he followed the other two members of the Shield down the range to the stairs.

Dean glanced over his shoulder at his cellmate as he was about ready to step on down the stairs. "This shit they feed us? You've been eating for how many years now?"

"What can I say, the carbs are great for working out. Just don't think about the taste and you should be okay."

Dean was the quintessential bad boy of the group, sandy blond hair with a set of light blue eyes. He was tall, about 6'4'' in height and chiseled much like the rest of the inmates around the prison. Working out was the only way to keep their minds from going to mush, as he described it when Seth first showed up at the Dade County Prison.

There was a grunt from Roman. His black hair hung loosely in curls down his upper back. Of Samoan heritage, and one of the biggest street gangs in Florida ranging from Pensacola down to Miami, he was a generational gangster. His father had been a drug kingpin in the eighties, around the time when Roman was born. Now he was two tiers down from his two cousins, known around the prison as The Usos.

"What's with that noise, Ro?" Seth asked from behind in the pack.

"Give it up, you know he misses his Mama's cooking." Dean laughed. "They want to deprive us of our essentials. I can't wait for Canteen though."

The mere mention of Canteen gave the Samoan a grin. He had a few ideas for doing some real cut throat business.

"You thinking of Hustling the Chesters?" Seth asked.

"If they want to live, sure I do." His friend responded. "I got a few in my sights. If they know what's good for them, they'll fucking pay up."

Dean and Seth went back to their cell, Joe went three cells down to his where he was sharing with a man known around the prison as R-Truth. As Dean and Seth were preparing for chow, a fifteen minute sprint for most inmates, something caught Dean's attention. It was a form for an online profile thing he'd heard about.

"You're really considering doing Prison PenPals?" Dean asked picking up the piece of paper that held it's triangular emblem at the top corner of the sheet.

"Yeah, why?" Seth didn't even bother to look up from what he was doing.

"Hell, I don't know. Sounds like something you wouldn't ever do."

"Sorry, I'm getting a little bored with shit coming from home. Even though Iowa is a world away from the Sunshine State, I don't want to hear about my brother's escapades in romancing women. I would actually consider looking for one myself but it takes a special woman who would actually look beyond the fact that I am in prison."

"Who would want to spend the next ten years talking to you?"

"Come on, Man. You have ten years left as well. Maybe you should think about looking into getting a lady yourself." Seth pulled the penpal form sheet from Dean's hands. "Maybe you could get that stick out of your ass. What's the deal with you? Do you want to talk to men all the time?"

"I've been scarred by broads most of my life. How do you think I got here? It was all because of a bitch that thought it would be better to rob a bank than actually earning the Goddamned money herself." Dean tossed his blood spattered prison uniform into his prison issued nylon mesh laundry bag. "Come on, get your sorry ass in gear so we can get to chow."

Seth tucked the correspondence form under his top bunk pillow before following his friend out. He nodded at Roman as they exit out onto the range, then they started heading down to the main floor of the cell block for their chow line. Maybe getting some food into his stomach would ease Dean's anger, at least Seth could hope for that.

"Hey, get this, Ro?" Dean slapped the muscular man's arm slightly. "Seth's applying for the Prison PenPal Profile shit."

"Aw, man, don't start this shit again." Seth groaned, nearly slapping himself over the face. "Can we do without the Seth bashing right now?"

"Come on, it's fun. It breaks up the days of monotony around here." Dean pepped up.

Only for Dean, bringing others pain and torture brought him joy. This was something that he craved to do. Getting back at the people who had done him wrong also brought him a sadistic joy. Prison really did bring out the worst in people. This was no different.

The CO, correction officer, escorted the large group of inmates out of their cell block and into one of the halls of the prison. Nearly the center of the prison is the mess hall, where breakfast, lunch and dinner are served to those on general population. Dean had just gotten out of the Hole for getting caught assaulting another inmate. The worst thing for someone is to be trapped by themselves with only their minds for enjoyment. It was this reason that Seth decided not to get involved in the same kind of stuff that Dean did. Well for the most part.

"What's your type?" Roman asked. Off in the distance a buzzer sounded, signaling that the iron door to their cell block had been closed.

"My type?" Seth asked.

"Yeah, your type of woman." Dean elaborated for their friend.

"Is breathing a quality?"

Dean rolled his eyes as he followed Roman down the hall. "Come on, man. Do you like blonds, brunettes or are you a redhead kind of person?"

"Does it really matter on the issue?"

"Not really, but please tell me you aren't still thinking about it. Can't you just get your mom to hook you up with some broad?" Dean asked.

Roman wasn't going to be any help, Seth knew that. Following up the three, and having a guy at his back, Seth groaned. This was going to be one hell of a time for him.

"Look, it's my personal life." Seth declared. "I kind of want to keep it that way. Now will you drop it?"

"No way in hell, Cellie." Dean responded glancing over his shoulder at the younger man. "You're a twenty-seven year old virgin, aren't you?"

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Why are you so damn interested in getting a penpal?" Roman spoke up again.

"It would give me something to do around here. I mean, besides what we usually do, I would actually like to hear from some woman a world away from here. It would keep my mind from going crazy behind bars."

"I'm the poster child for insanity, I'll give you that much." Dean grumbled as they finally made it to the mess hall.

* * *

The alarm clock started beeping mercilessly. It took Rose Miller longer to get up this morning. In part because of the dog that was literally laying over her chest. Tinkerbell, her small pitbull mix breed dog, started kissing the woman's face, urging her to get up.

"I don't want to." She groaned, lightly shoving her dog's nose away from her. "I don't want to go to work today."

After much prodding, Tinkerbell sat down next to her owner on the bed. That's when the beeping of the alarm mixed with the with Tinkerbell's howling roused the light brunette woman up.

"For crying out loud. I'm up, I'm up, damn it." She groaned, crossing her arms over her eyes, trying to kick her covers off. This was a little difficult since her dog was still sitting on the bed.

With a slap of her hand, Rose shut off her beeping alarm clock and slowly sat up. Confident that her owner wasn't going to go back to sleep, Tinkerbell jumped off the bed and headed out towards the kitchen of the apartment. With the dog gone, Rose got up and stretched one more time. Flipping on the radio, she swayed for a few beats of the rock song that was playing, something from the eighties she was sure, and then headed into her adjoining bathroom.

Once she had showered and changed into some black slacks, a nice red top with a white under shirt, Rose grabbed her shoes and was preparing to leave for work.

"Great, it had to be raining. Why does there have to be so much rain in Portland?" She asked as she bent over to tie her tennis shoes.

As Rose was getting ready for her morning shift, she fed Tinkerbell and then grabbed her purse to put her wallet and keys in. Then she settled on some chocolate peanut butter spread on toast for her own breakfast.

"We have a man coming in for some touch up work." Rose told Tinkerbell while she was looking through her appointment log for her work shift. "Nothing going on. Thank goodness it's Monday, huh girl? Otherwise it will be a mess."

Weekends were usually the hardest for Shave and A Haircut Salon. That's when people who didn't work usually came in for regular appointments. Having Fridays off was Rose's saving grace. That's when she liked to go out and party hardy until the cows came home. Usually it was her, dateless as usual acting like a third wheel for her friends who want to give the dating scene a try.

"Your clock is ticking, Rosie." Her mother Astrid would always say when she called. "You need to find a young man, settle down and give me grand kids."

Just the mere thought of her mother telling her what to do- yet again in her life- made Rose roll her eyes.

Once breakfast was done for Rose and Tinkerbell, they headed out. Luckily they lived right off of Burnside in the Pearl District of Portland, OR. So did Shave and A Haircut, which made the commute short for the dog and owner. Making sure to grab her umbrella before she left, Rose and Tinkerbell headed out.

Along the way, Tinkerbell did her usual doggie stuff. She sniffed the corner hydrant, peed on the sidewalk grass that grew between the sidewalk and the street. At least she didn't attempt to go after the poodle some woman was walking in the rain. Even the dog had it's own raincoat and goulashes, both of which matched the owners own rain attire. Portland was an open book, a lot of refugees, illegals, and people doing illegal things. But with Portland being on the border to Washington State, where marijuanna was legal, it wasn't a far fetched thing to see a man smoking a pot pipe right on the sidewalk next to her job.

"Hey Mac." Rose greeted her pot smoking coworker. "Any plan on quitting?"

Taking one last drag on the pipe, the woman started coughing. She coughed so hard some of the dyed red hair fell out of the messing bun that was clipped to the base of her neck. Once composure was restored, her pipe safely tucked into her pocket, large brown eyes with thick black eyeliner and eye shadow looked at the other woman.

"No such luck. As long as it doesn't interfere in my work, I don't see what's the problem."

"It's not a problem, but you might want to spray some Fabreeze on yourself. To dissolve your au'd de skunk smell. That might give customers something to gripe about." Rose said as she unlocked the store.

Rose and Mackenzie Santiago had been best friends since high school. They worked in the drama department, usually doing backstage makeup, costume and hair stuff for the performers. They both went to beauty school together and decided they wanted to open up their own salon. Shave and A Haircut Salon was a dream for them to come true. While Mackenzie worked mainly with the women clients, Rose worked on the men. Her daddy had been a barber and he taught her how to shave with a single bladed razer to give the ultimate shave for a man.

The new hire, a woman who was sort of like a receptionist came in ten minutes late. Mackenzie and Rose both looked at her when she walked in.

"My car wouldn't start this morning." Jennifer said as she took off her hat.

Jennifer Anderson wanted to get into a beautician career but need to earn her way into a beauty school. So Mac and Rose had hired her because of how popular the salon had become.

"You could have called, you know." Rose said as she put on her hairstylist pocketed apron. "I was about ready to call you." She added some scissors and combs to her apron.

"I'm sorry. Really I am." Jennifer said as she headed towards the back room that doubled as the employee break room and locker space.

Tinkerbell was at her post, which was a dog bed near the front door of the salon so that she could greet customers as they came in. The moment that Rose brought the dog to work, customers seemed to be ready and willing to come in so that way they could be greeted by the sweetest looking black and white dog. With her easy going nature, Tinkerbell really did become a mascot for Shave and A Haircut. But the one thing that she did not appear to like was Jennifer. Mac instantly picked up this trait from the beginning.

"Next time, if you know you're going to be late, the least you could do is call one of us." Mac called out after her. After getting a sloppy wave in return, she turned to look at Rose. "I don't think we can keep her if she's going to continuously come in late for her shifts."

"Come on, just give her a chance." Rose said.

"Fine, but I swear, she's no good. Even your dog thinks so."

Before she had a chance to respond the bell to the door dinged rather loudly and a hulking muscled man walked in with a shorter woman behind him. The two of them contrasted each other. The man was tall, he had pale white skin with flaming red hair. The woman had a more sun kissed tan to herself. But unlike most women she bore the fact that she had muscles, or at least in her arms. Rose noted she had dual dyed hair, blond mixed with chocolate brown or vice versa. From where she stood at her station, Rose couldn't make out what was dyed or what was natural. But one thing was for sure, the man didn't have dyed hair. Hell, he didn't even appear to have any fat on him what so ever.

"Hi, are you Mr. O'Shaunessy?" Rose asked as she approached the couple.

"Aye, that I am." The man replied, speaking in a thick Irish brogue accent. "Just a shave today, lass."

Rose nodded as they shook hands. "Then you've come to the right place. I'm Rose, I tend to all the male clients. And you are?" Then she turned to the woman.

"Kaitlyn O'Shaunessy, his wife." She jabbed her thumb in his direction. "I'm actually in for some layering work myself."

"Then you'll be handled by Mac, I mean Mackenzie."

"Mac will do just fine. Hi, nice to meet you. I'll take you to my station." Rose's coworker said motioning towards the styling section of the shop.

"And you'll be over here at my station. Straight razer shaving is my specialty, is that what you were aiming for?" Rose asked the Irishman.

"That's that plan at least. I've just moved here, I'm a bouncer for that Irish pub here." The man said sitting down in the chair.

Rose could see freckles around the man's face and into his shoulders, light in color. He stretched his shirt so much it appeared that he had a second skin, covered in green green really did bring out his eyes though. And cue the hormones, it had been a while since she last had a man come home with her.

"You'll have to take your flat cap off though. You can put it right there if you want to." She motioned to the vanity shelf that held other grooming supplies. "So it's just a shave, right?"

"Aye, and a trim if that's not a problem."

"Spike the hair?" She looked at the top of his head and then down the sides.

"That would be nice."

* * *

**Okay, while trying to come up with a sequel to another story I have up this concept sort of popped into my head. And with it being my first AU I'd really appreciate some feedback from you guys. Should I continue with it or should I not? It's not something you really read about around here, and as a fan of those prison documentaries I think it kind of fits the image of The Shield. Having never done an AU before, I'm just dipping my toes into it right now. **


	2. Chapter 2

With Kaitlyn O'Shaunessy over at Mac's station and Sheamus over at Rose's station, that left Jennifer to deal with making appointments for other customers that were calling in. As it was eight in the morning, luckily Mr. O'Shaunessy was Rose's only client for that morning.

"I was lucky with her." Sheamus said, gesturing towards Kairlyn with his hand under the large cover that Rose had draped over him. "She was with me for most of me issues."

"Issues? I'm sorry, I don't mean to pry." She said, prepping her razor blade. The large leather strap was attached to her work station, and it was placed so that she could look at him as she talked.

"No, it's nothing to worry about. I was a convict back in Dublin, Ireland."

"Convict?" Mac asked, glancing over at Rose's client.

"Aye, that's right. I done some things in my life that I am not fond of. Drug running but illegal street fighting was what I was put in for. Assault, stabbing, that sort of thing. We Irish love a good fight."

"I found his online profile." Kaitlyn spoke up.

"I don't think I follow."

"We were inmate penpals before I was released. How long was it, lass, about three years?" Sheamus asked his wife.

"Yeah, I think so. Anyway, we bonded over weight training, boxing and stuff like that."

Rose nodded. "Oh, I see. What made you want to write to an inmate?"

"Well, sure they all have done something wrong in their life, but really, I think it was the fact that I was bored and wanted something to do. Sure he was in Ireland and I just moved out of my parents place when we started talking, but it was something I enjoyed."

"It takes a special someone to want to touch the life of a convict in prison." Sheamus said as Rose grabbed her special shaving creme.

"How could you stick it out for three years?" Mac asked as she started separating Kaitlyn's hair into sections.

"Well," Kaitlyn said, glancing at her husband in the mirror. "We just did, we made it work. It's not for everyone, that's for sure. If you went online you can find prison penpal profiles you might find someone that has things in common with you."

What the blond and brunette woman said made sense to her, Rose thought as she went about shaving and trimming Sheamus' facial hair. Maybe it would be good, would it?

"Thank you for the help today." Kaitlyn said as they were paying for their treatment. "We definitely will be coming back again."

"Great," Rose spoke up from her station where she was cleaning up for her next client. "We'll definitely be excited to see you again."

Once they had left, Mac and Rose both were contently cleaning up their stations.

"I think I want to do it." Rose said, wiping down her station.

"Do what?" Mac and Jennifer asked together, looking over at their brunette friend.

"I'm going to find a penpal to write to. One of those inmate penpals. It sounds kind of fun." She answered, looking at her friend coworker.

"You can't be serious, Rose." Jennifer said. "They are in prison for a reason. I mean, look at that man that just walked in. Assaults, stabbings, hell even rapists are in prison. Why would you want to talk to someone like that."

Tinkerbell lifted her head and gave a low growl at the shop hand. Resting her head back on her paws she watched the three women.

"I don't know why. It's not like I'm desperate for a guy." Okay maybe she was but she wasn't going to say so.

"You would be really messed up if you really did decide to write to an inmate." Jennifer shook her head as she looked down at the computer she was in front of. "I mean, they would only be interested in you for money and sex shots."

"Are you really going to start this?" Mac asked.

"I'm speaking the truth. All those guys in prison are only interested in beautiful women and money. Most of them are in there for rape after all."

"I give up. First you're late today and you're talking shit about people you don't know." Mac tossed up her hands, shaking her head and then groaned. "Just keep your comments to yourself from now on, won't you?"

That sour face puckered up at her, but Mac didn't pay any attention. One of her clients came in after she basically told Jennifer to shut up. But Rose was not detoured from the idea what she was going to do when she got home later in the day.

"So, are you still really interested in possibly writing to an inmate?" Mac asked as she and Rose were getting the shop ready for closing.

They had sent Jennifer home for the day. Now the two were able to get some time together to talk. And as Rose had thought, tucked away in her friend's locker was the marijuana pipe. Mac quickly snatched it up and put it in her pocket.

"I don't know, Rose. It's your life. You need to live it as you want. I mean, look at me." Mac indicated to herself. "Everyone has a story to tell, but it's their choice to tell it. So I guess it's your choice to look beyond some man's cover to see what he really is like on the inside."

"Nice analogy, Mac. I'll think about."

* * *

When Rose and Tinkerbell got back home, Rose set about making dinner for her dog.

"Do you really think I shouldn't contact a prisoner?" She asked as she poured kibble into Tinkerbell's food bowl. Tinkerbell's only real interest was in the food that was in her bowl. "Yeah, I didn't think so."

Placing the food bowl on the floor and then she went into the front room to set up her laptop.

Rose sat down in her favorite chair with a Monster can next to her. What a great way to end the day. Maybe it would get better if she really thought about it. Kaitlyn and her husband really did intrigue her, more so about the possibility of finding a friend through an Inmate social ad.

"Hmm, where should I look for inmate penpals?" She asked herself as she opened her laptop.

It only took a few moments to boot up her laptop, so in the mean time she took a few drags of Monster while she waited for her laptop to wake up. Rose put her Monster can down and clicked on her Internet icon. Once her homepage opened she went to the search option and stopped. What would she put in the search field? Inmate Penpals, yeah that would do, Rose decided as she clicked out the two words.

One website came up, Prison PenPals, which was like a website with personal ads for inmates. There was a feature where Rose could search for parameters on the kind of person she was interested in.

"There should be at least one guy in here that is interesting enough to write to."

TInkerbell didn't acknowledge her owner's words. Too busy eating every little kernel of kibble in her bowl, the pitbull mutt basically ignored Rose.

"Yeah, yeah, I know. I hope whoever I decide to write to isn't a dog." Rose continued on with talking to herself.

But what was she looking for? Not like she had any expertise in this area of life, race wasn't an issue. Working in a melting pot like Portland, OR, well she did just meet her first Irishman that day. That should say a lot. Age? Okay, not too old and maybe a year or two younger than her. So, twenty-five to about thirty-five would be the limit.

"Hmm, I don't really care what state they come from, as long as it's not anywhere near me. If they know the area they might find me when they leave." Rose pursed her lips. "Florida, I've always wanted to go there."

So selecting her age range and Florida, there was a lot of young men to choose from to write to. Some where really interested in just finding love and romance, capitalized letters advertising single males looking for eligible females on their pages and it really set Rose on edge.

"Maybe Jennifer was right." She said putting her laptop down next to her on the couch. "Maybe they are looking for a toy to play with. Sure, they were put in there for a reason, a very bad reason. Good men don't just go to prison for no reason."

Dumping her Monster can in the recycling can in her kitchen, Rose went to go get another one, homing that it would make some effect on her. If she crashed then maybe she could get a full night sleep for work in the morning.

"What now?" She turned towards where her only house phone was ringing on the kitchen counter. Grabbing it up, she pressing the green phone button. "Hello?"

"Rosie, honey, it's your mom."

At the sound of her mother's voice on the other end of the line, Rose quietly rolled her eyes. Not a day went by that Rose hoped that the woman wouldn't butt into her life.

"Hi, Mom."

"Honey, listen…I've been thinking. You know how you have a hard time finding the right guy. Well I found one that may just be right for you."

"Mom," Rose's head fell back, a hand went to cover her eyes. "Mom, stop!"

"What? Honey, you're almost thirty years old, you clock is ticking."

These conversations, these fights were enough to want to pull her own hair out. Refraining from doing so, Rose went back to her mother on the phone.

"Mom, I'm twenty-nine years old. And after what happened with Ben I…"

"Ben was a nice man, Rose. Why did you throw him away like that?" "So it's my fault for what he did, Mom?" She couldn't help that her voice rose slightly in annoyance.

"Well, no, I mean, are you sure it wasn't something you did otherwise…"

"I'm ten seconds from hanging up on you, Mom. Give me the benefit of a doubt here, I am not interested in having my heart busted like what he did to me. So unless you're going to tell me how's Dad doing, then I have nothing more to say to you."

She heard her mother groan, the strong willed mother butting heads with the strong will daughter. It was a round about thing that had been going on since Rose was a little girl living in Cincinnati, Ohio.

"The reason why I'm calling is because Jennifer…"

"The Jennifer that I hired for my store?"

"Well, yeah. She was worried about you and she called me about it." When Rose didn't stop her, Mrs. Miller went on. "She told me about how you were interested in talking to inmates, writing to them."

"I was thinking about it, sure…"

"Well don't. There is a reason why they went to prison in the first place, Rose. And falling in love, well they will surely break your heart, or any other part of you."

Having had enough, Rose groaned. "This is my life, my personal life, Mom. I understand your need to protect me, to see to it that I am okay. But you can't make me do anything I don't want to do right now. This is my life, I make my own rules. If I want to talk to inmates, or inmate, then that's my wish."

"Honey, you're making a very big mistake."

"And tell Daddy that I love him and I'll call when he's up or when he's feeling better. Love you, bye." And with that, she shut off the phone.

Ever since her father got sick, and with Rose up in Portland she was worried that if he went into relapse then she wouldn't be there to see him off. And then with an overbearing mother who wanted grandchildren out of the deal, Rose was also happy she lived in Portland at the same time.

"Just choose one and write to him." Rose decided as she headed back to her couch.

The page that was up had a listing of about thirty men with online ads for penpals. Some were Hispanic, there were a few white guys, but one guy had mix cultural race listed. From the picture that he had, he stood with his back against a brick wall with no shirt on and just his shorts. He was physically fit, and only two years younger than her.

"Seth Rollins," she mumbled. "What are you in for, Seth Rollins."

There was a link to show the crime he had committed at the bottom of the page. Once there Rose found that he was in prison for attempted murder. But that was only the legal stuff, he didn't say in his little couple hundred word ad why he was in, or who he attempted to murder. But he listed his pass times as fitness and from the look of his body, he was really fit. Really, really fit indeed.

"I'll just see if he is worth it, you know." Rose looked over at her dog. "Just one try, just to see how it is. If he's a douche bag then I will wash my hands of him. Apparently, I'm good at that."

Saving his page in her favorites, Rose opted to just get ready for bed a little early that night. That way she could head out and do her day job the next day without any issues.

* * *

**All right, there's Chapter 2. So what do you guys think? I'm really curious.**


	3. Chapter 3

There was a rule for the inmates, don't use the stairs for personal exercise routines. Luckily with it being under staffed at the prison and inmates milling about outside of their cells, Seth could get in a few pull up reps for the day. With Roman's bulk, the smaller man couldn't be seen exercising on the stairs.

"One eighty, woo, a new record I think." Seth boasted as he dropped down.

Roman smirked, looking over his shoulder at his smaller friend. "One eighty, I could beat you in that." He then looked around. "Seen Ambrose around anywhere?"

"Not since he went to go hustle the chesters for their canteen." Seth came to stand next to Roman, draping his towel over his shoulders. "I think he's up on the second tier."

This prison didn't segregate inmates who had sexual convictions away from the main population. And it allowed the more aggressive inmates, like Dean Ambrose, to serve justice for the families that had to deal with these convicts. Also it just gave Dean the sheer joy of hurting someone. Much like a bully taking a school kid's lunch money, Canteen allowed for more comfortable living amongst the inmates.

"There you are." Seth said seeing Dean leave a cell that belonged to one of the aforementioned Chesters. "Find everything you need?"

Holding up the plastic bag full of small chips and snacks, he smiled with a sinister menace that even had Seth guessing his sanity. "Yep, got everything I'll need to hold me over until next Canteen."

Such was life in a prison setting like this. The weak were the prey and Dean Ambrose was the monster that fed off of them.

"I'm guessing you didn't get the money you needed to get put on your books?" Roman asked.

"What do you think? I ain't got anyone to support me behind here. Mother's probably off somewhere stoned out of her mind, wasting her money on Meth or whatever." Dean grumbled the last part as he headed back towards his cell. "I don't have a Mommy that will pay for my food."

Roman and Seth glanced at each other. They came from good families, or at least had mothers that paid for their canteen or anything else they would need in a place full of prison issued attire. Dean didn't have that sort of luxury, and while trying to share the wealth with his cellmate and partner, Seth knew Dean had something to resent him with.

"Just drop it." Roman said. "No need to have a grouchy ass like him for the day. I'm heading back to my cell."

"Reigns, Rollins, Ambrose…" A CO said approaching Dean's and Seth's cell.

Roman stopped short of his own cell, glancing back at the guard with narrowed eyes. It was Superman himself standing there with a baton and can of mace attached to the belt all the guards wore.

"Well look who has decided to grace up with his presence." Dean said exited his cell. "John Fucking Cena," though he didn't finish the cruel remark that was on the tip of his tongue, Dean crossed his arm. "What can we do for you today?"

Neither three men liked Cena all too much. A former Marine turned corrections officer, Cena lived by a code of ethics, worse than the man that ran the prison. Coming from up North in Massachusetts, coming from money and privilege, anyone who lived better off than Dean was always a target for his wrath. Cena was also the officer that Dean assaulted, resulting a stay in the Hole.

"Warden wants to see you three in his office right now."

"What does the Principle want?" Dean asked.

"Don't know, but he wants all three of you in there."

There was an intense stare off between the CO and the inmate. Neither liked the other, it was that blatantly clear to anyone on the range, in that cell block actually.

"Fine, escort us." Dean finally said, nodding his head.

"Gotta cuff you for the walk."

Roman looked over at Dean, knowing that everything about Cena really ticked the other guy off. Sure enough, Dean's jaw was clinched tight, the muscles in his face straining against his skin. Always the angriest of the three, Dean was not going to back down.

"I'm not getting younger, Ambrose."

"You're getting uglier, Superman."

"Want a write up?"

"Want a nose job?"

"Want to go back to the hole?"

Not on his life he would want that. Growling dangerously, Dean balled up his fists and narrowed his eyes.

"Give me my goddamn bracelets, Superman." He finally said, presenting his hands towards the CO.

"Thought so." Cena smirked as he reached for a set of cuffs on his belt.

Two other COs came forward to handcuff Roman and Seth, those two were more than willing to stay in line, when they needed to at least. The three fell in line, other inmates yelling obscenities out at the COs as they led the three men out of the cell block.

"Heard anything about the Mexican Mafia?" Cena asked Dean.

Inmates had to walk against the wall, never crossing the red line that was painted on the floor. It was to keep order in the prison. Not that it helped assaults on officers from now and then. And in these moments of one officer to one inmate when they could get crucial information about the gangs and their illegal activities going on in the prison.

"I haven't heard anything, Superman." Dean said coolly, not even trying to look at Cena's military buzz cut head.

Even though Cena was more muscular than someone like Roman Reigns, he was built like a road block. Smug son of a bitch that he was, he and Dean were always on edge around each other. Mainly because Cena saw himself as superior to someone like Ambrose, at least that's what a lot of people claimed.

"I'm quite sure you have."

Dean opted to keep his mouth shut. When Cena didn't get anything out of Dean, he adverted his gaze back to Rollins.

"What about you, Rollins. Don't you have a little bit of Spanish in your blood?" Cena asked.

Another moment of silence from the dark haired man.

"How about you, Reigns. I hear the Samoan Syndicate is working with the Spanish Mafia on the streets, what's not so say you're in their pocket here in my prison?" A low rumble came from Roman's chest, but his face was tight and eyes focused on the back of Seth's head. There was no way he was going to get baited by a punk ass CO like Cena.

"I will find out the answers, whether you help me or not. And if you're in anyway involved with the Mafia I will see to it that your ass stays in the Hole for the longest amount of time permissable for a prisoner.

* * *

The Warden looked up from his paperwork. There wasn't enough time in the day to get this crap under control. But controlling a prison, keeping it in order and under a tight watch on the outside was hard enough. But the dealings inside was enough to make a man go crazy.

"Warden, the prisoners you requested." Cena said opening the door to the Warden's office.

Paul Levesque glanced up. "Bringing them in."

The three men known around the prison as The Shield walked in. In their denim jeans with the prison insignia on the right leg and blue shirts showing that they were definitely prison property. They were a far cry from Levesque's own suit he wore to work every day.

"You three can go." Paul said standing up from his desk.

"Sir?" Cena questioned, looking at the Warden.

"It's all right, John. They wouldn't dare do anything in here. Too many cameras are watching their every move." Paul motioned to the three cameras mounted on the wall.

"If you're sure. I'll be right outside." Giving Dean the stink eyes, Cena left, lightly closing the door behind him.

"Starting another fight, Ambrose?" Paul asked.

"Not really. He started it though."

"Look, I need you to do something for me." Paul cut to the chase as he leaned against his desk. "It's a sort of personal matter but it involves my family."

Roman could attest to that. He had a daughter of his own on the outside, who he only got to see once a month when his mother brought her to see him. Jocelyn was his angel, the reason why he lived each day.

"What's up?" Seth asked for the three of them.

"During one of my rounds in your cell block, I heard an inmate talk rather vulgar about my daughter, the oldest one that visits from time to time."

"He's a Chester, right?" Dean instantly grinned.

"That's about right. But he's here not as a child molester but for a different crime. From what I heard all allegations were thrown out during the trial itself." Paul sighed. "But he made a remark about seeing my daughter one day and even though I can't do a damn thing about it, I would like you three to take care of him. Kill him if you have to, I don't really care at this point. Do this for me, Dean, I'll make sure your books are covered for a year."

Tempting, really tempting in Dean's eyes. Money was money, and being paid to take out someone for the Warden was enough to get the convicted bank robber to do anything at the moment. Money wasn't an issue for Paul Levesque, he had plenty of it. He only had three daughters he would refuse to loose at this point.

"So how about it. Do this for me and I'll pay all three of you for Canteen for the coming year?"

"I'm in." Seth said, bouncing on his toes anxiously.

Dean and Seth then looked at Roman, who had a stoic expression on his face.

"I'll do it, only for the safety of a kid. That's the only reason why I will do this." Roman finally said.

"I thought so. I knew you three were the best kinds to do it." After giving them the information that they needed to find the man, Paul walked over to the door and opened it, revealing Cena still standing there. "Take them back to their cells. I got what I wanted out of them."

"Yes, sir. Come on, you three." Cena stepped to the side and motioned for The Shield to leave.

As they were heading back to the cell block, with other inmates being escorted from different facilities within the prison as well, the three kept their mouths shut tight. Which was hard for Dean at the moment, because Cena was drilling him for answers.

"So what did you tell the Warden, huh?" Cena nudged Dean in the back with his baton. "I thought you inmates had a code you live by."

Dean was up at the front of the line. One officer for one inmate, that was the rule when moving them. Lacking the use of his hands and arms because they were still in handcuffs, Dean remained silent. If he lashed out, it was his ass on the line. Getting his payment was the only thing he needed to keep his head in the game and not try to kick the living shit out of Cena.

"I'm talking to you, Ambrose." John nudged him again with his baton.

"Yeah, well, Superman, I'm not talking to you. Better get used to it." Dean responded, glancing at the man sideways.

Roman looked ahead of him at Dean. The tension could be cut with a knife at this point, which he feared would happen. Dean was famous for a short fuse, and knowing this was the longest he'd gone without punching or even attacking someone was proof enough. It just seemed like Cena had it out for them.

"How's your daughter, Reigns?" Cena looked back over his shoulder at the taller man.

Just stay focused, he kept reminding himself. Ignore him.

"Why aren't you three a talkative bunch right now? Any other time you're always scheming and plotting. But when you're with us, you're quiet. I don't understand you three. I don't really see why everyone in your cell block is so afraid of you." Cena continued to talk. That was probably because he wanted to hear his own voice.

By the time the three were released in their cell block, it was nearing chow time. Not only that but something else was on it's way.

"Expecting mail from your Mama?" Dean asked as he settled onto his bunk.

"Yeah, I guess." Seth laid back on his bunk while Dean flipped through the channels on their communal TV that was in the cell looking for something to pass the time.

"What, the ad leading you to no where?"

"It's been a month since that ad was put up. I figured I would have been mailed something from someone." Like a robot, Seth's dark eyes followed the crack that was on the ceiling above his head. "I guess I'm not that interesting for someone to write to."

"Man," Dean punched the underside of Seth's bunk, not even caring if his hand stung a bit. "Stop, just stop. Any broad who writes just has Daddy issues. You'll get someone who is whiny and clingy and you won't get your shit together long enough before she heads off to some other jack off."

"We've been here how long, Dean, three years each? Tell me something, who put that goddamn stick up your ass?" Seth's left hand gripped his pillow, his eyes glaring into the crack above him. "I'm just sick and tired, okay, of this day to day living in a prison. For at least five or ten minutes I want to escape this sell, see life outside of these prison walls. Is that so hard to ask for?"

And for once Dean didn't have a snarky comeback. He stayed quiet for a good while, eyes on the TV but not really paying attention.

"Just don't get wrapped up in a relationship, Seth." His tone was softer now, as if he was looking at a memory in that clouded head of his. "Finding a girlfriend while you're behind bars is not the best thing for you. Trust me, I had one myself and she just…" The chow bell rang, cutting into the conversation. "Come on, let's just get out of here and get something to eat. We need to go over strategy with what our assignment is."

* * *

**I really hope I did this update well enough. What do you guys think. Any suggestions, please do speak up. Thanks.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Warning, I have changed the rating of this story for it's content that will eventually show up later on.**

* * *

A small smile graced Roman's face as he looked down at his little angel, at least the picture of her. She was smiling really big, showing off the features she was graced to have. She was the only brightest thing in his life at the moment, a shining light in the doom and gloom of being in prison.

"When are you coming home, Daddy?" His little girl asked him, bringing his mind back to the phone call he was on.

"Not for a while, Sweatheart. I promise though, you'll see me again. Love you, Babygirl."

"Love you, Daddy." He heard her sigh in return. "Bye, bye."

"Bye for now, Baby." And then he hung up.

"Yo, Reigns!" Glancing over his shoulder, Roman spied his two friends approaching. "Time for Chow Hall. Wanna join us or what?" Dean asked.

"Yeah, coming." He replied.

They got in line with the other inmates that were lined up to go to lunch. Roman was aware of the stuffiness in the air, particularly around Cena. That CO had been watching Ambrose, Rollins and him ever since they had returned from the Warden's office. Convinced they had snitched more than likely, Roman knew that it was only going to get worse around the prison for them.

"Bleachers on the South Side during rec time." Dean said, having taken up the middle spot between Roman and Seth. "We need to go over strategy for later."

Oh yes, Roman thought, the man that the Warden wanted them to off for him.

South Side, that was like a mutual gathering point for a lot of people, those not really sticking to their own races. Because of Seth's mixed heritage, he had been bounced back and forth between the White and the Southern Hispanics for a long time until he joined forces with Dean and Roman. There weren't a lot of Samoans in prison, except for Roman's two cousins being held in a different cell block in the prison. Then there was Dean.

"Hey man, I was wondering something," Roman said as they waited in line for the food trays. "You spoke about why you're here, but why aren't you with the Whites?"

That got a laugh out of Dean. "Because I don't follow that shit about one pure race. Gotta say, though, they stopped coming after me when I attacked them back. Messed up a few of their boys, showing them I'm not raising my ass to them."

Rape, that was something Seth didn't want to think about. Fresh meat were always the targets, and he had been targeted repeatedly because of his cute looks.

"Why are you asking?" Dean asked.

"Just something some of the boys on my tier were talking about. No one gives you shit, that much I do know."

With no support from anyone outside of the prison, Dean had to survive, and hustling the way he did was the only way he knew how to make money. Much like the Warden had done, he would get contracted hits out on someone and he'd get paid to do it. So, where there was money involved, Dean was there to do whatever it took to get the money.

Chow Hall, Mess Hall, it was all the same no matter what anyone called it. The room was as big as any cell block, large enough to hold the population of one cell block at a time, and that's how it worked in this prison.

As cell block 1A was getting into the Chow Hall the last of Cell Block 2C were just leaving to go out for their rec time. Tables fitting five inmates at a time, there were close to about fifty inmates in Cell Block 1A. It wasn't a confined area, a lot of leg room and the smells of food floated amongst the BO of men in orange jumpsuits.

By the time Dean, Seth and Roman had gotten their food, there was about ten minutes left for chow hall. The table they usually placed themselves at was empty, except for Roman's two cousins, also apart of the Samoan Syndicate.

"Jimmy, Jey, how goes it?" Roman asked placing his tray on the table.

"Word is floating around about a fight out at rec." Jimmy responded, looking at Jay for confirmation.

"When?" Seth asked.

"More than likely today." The second twin answered. Jay looked around. "Between the Aryan and Mexican Mafias."

"That's what Superman was trying to get out of us." Dean grumbled, glaring at his bologna sandwich. "At least the only good thing is the orange included in this shit hole meal. How can you eat this crap, Seth?"

Seth, happily eating whatever he had on his plate, just looked back at Dean. No sense trying to fight it. Swallowing the bite of sandwich, Seth laughed.

"It's easy, just don't think about it."

"Heard you three got sent to the Principle's office. What did he want?" Jimmy asked.

"Nothing, really." Roman answered stirring around the partially hardened macaroni and cheese before eating it.

"We're not snitches, if that's what you think." Dean said.

"Hell, you three live by the code," Jay said pointing with his fork. "What are we worried about?"

"You have to worry about being on the wrong side of the Justice., Jay." Dean smirked, looking up at the two twins with a glint of pure sadistic joy. "Wrong us, we won't hesitate to end your life even if you are related to one of us."

Roman didn't attest to it, he nodded along with Seth in that.

"It may be perverse Justice but if you do us wrong you're definitely are against us." Dean went on before settling on eating the food that would eventually eat him back.

The twins knew it was no joke. Instead of staying with their own races, they were their own gang and feared by anyone.

"I think we need to do that." Jay said nodding over to where a group of slightly transgender men were gathered. "They got the right idea, selling their goods like a shop."

Seth glanced over at where the shemales were sitting. What Jay was talking about is how some of the men supplied their money issues with hustles of a different kind. They had handmade cards and stuff like that showcased out on one side of the table while the four inmates sat around talking amongst themselves. A fifth inmate came up, one of the Mexican Mafia gang bangers, who had a small wad of money hidden in his hand.

"Wonder where his holmes got the money." Dean said seeing the hand off.

Cash money was contraband in prison, which meant it came into prison in some of the most unconventional ways- usually girlfriends or wives hiding it somewhere on them. Most people had some sort of art skills, drawing and paintings being made and sent out to be sold for money. But then there are those like Dean that needed to force people to give them what they wanted.

"Where ever it came from, I don't want to know." Seth said as he finished off the rest of his food.

"Yeah, I'm with you on that." Roman said.

"Come on, finish off this shit, Roman. We need to get out to rec soon." Dean turned to look at the muscle of The Shield.

"Right."

* * *

For inmates in general population, there is a better chance of having rec time longer than normal. Two hours of outside time is given to each cell block after chow hall. The rec area is as large as a football field with different sections with invisible boundary lines. Whites with white, blacks with blacks and other nationalities with their own kind. Then you have the small set of bleachers where anyone who isn't apart of any group were located.

Sitting on top of the bleachers, with an eagle eye on everything around him, Dean could see everything.

"Kurtis Soft, know anything about him?" Dean asked, spotting the man with a small group of men from their cell block.

"No, not really. Other than coming here for murder, I think he killed his wife." Seth said looking towards where some of the whites were standing around.

Roman nodded. "Yeah, he keeps to himself from what I have seen, unless he hangs with the whites."

"Does he have a cellie?"

"If he does, I haven't seen one." Seth said.

Kurtis Soft was talking to some of the whites in their area next to the tables. The blacks hung around the basketball courts where there was a constant game going on. Unless someone was locked up in the hole, the general population were grouped together.

"If we get caught we could get sent to the hole." Seth shook his head at the thought. "I don't think I could handle that."

"You don't say no to the Warden." Dean looked at the youngest member of The Shield. "Some of these guys haven't been released yet because they defied him."

"Then Soft is a dead man walking." Roman said as he found the guy in question.

For the most part their time outside was about two hours. With soft fluffy clouds floating on by with help of an unnaturally cool breeze for Florida. Usually hot and muggy, hard to breathe during this time of year, it was a day that would more than likely turn to bloodshed.

"Oy, you two, three I mean." A highly British accented voice called out. "Bad news, Ambrose. Collins is not paying up." The man dropped down on the bench below the three men.

"I'll deal with him later, Barrett." Dean responded. "What about the others?"

"Well, you got them weeing their trousers, but yeah, they are paying up their dues with your bets."

"You'll get your half, Roman. Don't worry." Roman grunted in response to Dean's statement.

"Well, need anything else, just ring me up…" Barrett started to leave.

"We've got a job you might be able to help with, Wade." Dean suddenly said, making the Englishman stop. "We've got a hit on a guy but to get to him we need a distraction. Think you can do that?"

"Easy, Mate. Nothing to worry." Wade flipped his hand. "When?"

"Today, when we head in from here. He's up on the same tier as Roman. Kurtis Soft."

"Wife killer, and talks about him raping some girl in Miami?" Wade whistled slightly. "What he do to get a hit on him?"

"Talking smack about a child." Roman spoke up. "The way I see it the bastard deserves to get shanked. You don't hurt children."

"Mate, I know the feeling," Wade grumbled as he plopped down. "Yet, assaulting an officer put a target on my back with the COs around here."

Sure enough, Dean could see Cena standing off in the distance watching the four of them like a hawk. His massive arms crossed, causing his shirt to be pulled across his chest like a second skin. Granted, Dean was more lean than Cena, but he didn't need muscle to prove who was the better man.

"So I get the bastard to go to his cell and then what?" Wade asked.

"Keep him there until we approach. After that, get your ass out of there. If it goes down, then I assure you people are going to go to the Hole on this one."

"Someone shoved a shiv in a duct up on the third tier, under the third window. If you need it, go get it." Wade stood up. "You have my word, I'll get my part done for you."

Dean knew that Wade's word could be trusted. The former European street brawler was just as cunning as Dean. He proved a true asset to Dean on numerous occasions. This time Dean could trust the Englishman.

"I got the shiv." Seth said. "I'm a bit faster than the two of you, I can get it fast and quick."

"Okay, Roman will block him from actually leaving the cell." Dean jabbed a thumb at their third friend.

There was a risk involved. If any of them were to be sent to the Hole, then anything they had going would be taken away instantly. Roman's time with his daughter and family, Seth's daily jogging and yet Dean didn't have much to loose. Roman sighed. This is what he got for being apart of The Shield. He wasn't counting on the Warden to make everything write, even though it was The Shield's ass on the line.

"You're worried." Dean said, not even looking at Roman. "If this shit goes down in a hail of pepper bullets, you won't see your kid."

"How do you know what I'm thinking, Ambrose?" The Samoan responded.

"I get into people's heads. I know how they work and how facial expression look. You're worried, that's all you are right now. You have the most to loose out of us. I get that. But this is a well paying job, one I need done."

"Who says I'm backing out just because I may or may not see my daughter again for a while? I've got at least six more years. By the time I'm out she'll be calling some other man Daddy."

"Hey, big guy, don't go thinking that. She loves you." Seth added, thwapping his friend in the shoulder. "So stop worrying and let's get our heads in the game."

Staying focused on this was difficult for the larger of the three men. He really didn't want to miss a day in his daughter's life but this was the life he had come to know over the years.

All he could really do was follow Dean and Seth back inside so that they could head back to their cell block to begin the hit.

And true to his word, Wade had cornered Soft in his cell. With a nod from Dean, Seth headed up on up to the tier where the shank had been hidden. They had to time it right, otherwise it would be disastrous. Either way, this was the time to act on their plan.

Roman headed down the range on the second tier. He could see Barrett talking to Soft in the cell, oblivious to what was going on. Dean was up behind him, Seth making his way behind Dean after getting shank. Shiv, shank, it was the same thing. It was a homemade weapon, usually melted plastic sharpened to a point. Razor blades attached to a plastic toothbrush handle for a slashing weapon. Even some are sharpened pieces of metal.

Wade had seen Roman coming, tossing Soft a sweet roll pastry for some coffee and then left. He passed Dean, nodded and then headed down the tier as fast as his long legs could carry him.

Other inmates moved out of the way, knowing something that was going to go down. They knew, word of mouth through the inmates was a fast one. Hits were given out all the time and with someone like Soft, well it was a matter of time before something was going to happen to him. The Whites weren't going to stick up for him, since it was probably a white that had informed the Warden about Soft.

"Soft," Roman said coming up to the cell.

There was Soft, sitting on the bottom bunk and going through his Commissary supplies. His head snapped up and he stood. He did have a cellie. That one was up on the top bunk, reading a dirty magazine. When seeing Roman standing at the cell door, he went back to reading the magazine, or looked like it.

"What?" Kurtis Soft said.

"I hear you like children." Dean said, coming up on Roman's side.

Clapping a hand on Roman's shoulder, Seth's head appeared between Dean and Roman. This was a cover so he could slip the shank into Dean's hand. "Did I miss anything."

"Not yet. You're just in time." Dean smirked at Soft.

Dean rushed forward, a hand grasping at Soft's shoulder and the right one stabbing him in the gut. Repeatedly, Dean stabbed him, and suddenly the alarm went off. Someone pulled an emergency fire alarm and Dean gave the order to run, leaving the shank in the cell.

* * *

**Sorry for taking a while to update. This story will take a while. I've got other things going on right now. Anyway, what do you guys think?**


	5. Chapter 5

When a prison is on lockdown it means that no one left their cells. But in these cells, with the smell of some other man's shit that had once been spread on the walls, or who knows what else, it could drive a man to insanity. Seth sat on the hard stone bed, the prison issued mat was nothing but thin material that didn't count at a mattress. Seth sat and stared at the door, his hands resting on his knees. But in the Hole, well it was a different matter.

Beyond the cemented walls there were the occasional banging from the men that were also in AD-SEG, or administrative segregation. But to the inmates it was called The Hole. Still, it was considerably quieter than what general population was.

Seth replayed what had happened in his head about what went down after they took out Soft in his cell. And the cloths line that Seth received from one John Cena. The back of Seth's head connected with the hard steel of the range, knocking him out almost on contact. He didn't know what happened to either Reigns or Ambrose after the attack. Hell, he didn't know if Soft was still breathing or stone cold stiff at that moment. All that Seth knew was waking up in the infirmary with a nurse tending to his head. And not the sexy kind.

Big Bertha was an older black woman who worked in the prison infirmary. Some guys joked that she was the oldest resident there. And not the sexiest of people to wake up to putting stitches in his head.

"Do you want to tell me how this happened?" She asked, her calm demeanor showing up. Gorgeous not in looks, but she had a personality of a saint when dealing with unruly inmates, that's what Seth knew.

"The range jumped up and attacked me out of nowhere." He had responded, closing his eyes.

And because of cut backs they didn't give him at least some sort of pain killer for the headache he had received. After he had been cleared from the infirmary, Seth was brought back to The Hole where the one man cells were waiting for him. If Reigns or Ambrose were there, he didn't see them.

But then again, Roman didn't see Seth after some of the COs had hauled him off. Cena, after knocking out Seth had gone straight after Dean, who was covered in Soft's blood. Not that Ambrose cared. No, that was the kind of man Dean was. Uncaring and uncontrolling. Cena and Dean finally had that fist fight that the two had been rearing for, for so long it had built up to that. At least Cena had it coming.

Roman was in his own cell in the AD-SEG unit. Actually he had seen Seth get escorted in by the guards. Roman could see the bandages that covered at least the top right side of his face, but he looked out of it. Cena, yeah he was a big muscular man, bigger than any of the other slightly overweight guards on duty at the Penn but Cena was a CO that was in every right capable of handling an onslaught. But Dean, oh Dean had been waiting for the chance to strike out at Cena. And as Roman paced his four by nine cell like a caged tiger, his thoughts went from his gang friends to his family, namely his daughter.

A rather large thud could be heard two cells down from him. Roman stopped pacing and looked out of the small cell window. That's when he heard the slur of profanities streaming out of Cell 5, him being in Cell 3. It was Dean. Of course it had to be Dean.

"Come on you, mother fuckers!" He hollered, but there was no banging. "I dare you, Cena. Come back here, you fucker. Come back here!"

Cena passed Roman's cell, that damn smirk gracing his lips. Cena was pleased with himself. Having won a one sided war of wills against Dean. Everyone said he wasn't right in the head, Dean Ambrose was as psychotic as everyone thought him to be. Could it be that they were right about him?

And it wasn't just Roman who heard Dean, Seth was hearing his friend's screams and yells from his own cell up on the second tier of AD-SEG. Alone and without his friend, Seth had nothing but his own mind to occupy himself with. At least in here, no one was going to get him.

The sound of the food tray slot opening, and the thick plastic tray of food was presented to him. It was one of the inmate orderlies, those preveledged enough to have a job inside the prison.

"Hey Mate." He heard Wade Barrett's voice said. "Just wanted you to know something, Rollins, you got mail yesterday. But I thought you should get this." He also dropped in an envelope. "Warden said you would be getting your stuff in a day or two. So out of the kindness of my own heart, maybe this could bring some light to your day." And then he left.

Groaning from the pain in his head, and the need to eat, Seth got up. Ignoring the letter, thinking that it was from his mother yet again, Seth grabbed the food tray and sat at the built in desk of metal and concrete. Much like the bed. Dinner, not much but strange meat on white bread that was dry and a carton of milk. At least here, he could eat for as long as he liked. Instead of fifteen minutes, he could have thirty minutes. And the only thing that was eligible of the mean was the orange. Even though it was a little soft for his liking, it was probably the healthiest that he had to look for, that and the slightly warm milk.

As Seth was chewing the last piece of his orange, and while stacking the peels up on the tray, he saw the white envelope on the floor. Yeah, he thought, it was probably from Mom. His mom was always sending him mail, talking about life back in Iowa. And it bored him because all she wanted to talk about was the golden child of the family, his younger brother. Well, better get to it.

Bending down, Seth picked up the sheer white envelope as he put his now empty food tray in the slot for pick up.

"Rose Miller? Portland, Oregon?" Seth read out loud flipping the envelope around.

* * *

_Greetings Seth,_

_You don't know me, but my name is Rose Miller. I wanted to let you know, that this is my first time trying to write a letter to an inmate. I decided that if you don't respond, then I'll know that writing is not what I am supposed to be doing._

_Actually, this is how I found out about writing to inmates. I work at a sort of barber shop here in Portland, I co own it with a friend of mine, it's called A Shave and a Haircut. I mainly work with styling men's hair and the single blade shave with the large leather strap and all. Well, anyway, I met a former convict, a former prison inmate who came from Ireland. And his wife and him were prison pen pals for some years. And that got me to thinking. Maybe I should give someone a chance to be my friend. Even though a lot of people aren't that open to the idea of me writing to an inmate, I decided to give it a try._

_So, to start off, I'm twenty nine and yes I am single. But I am the happy mother of Tinkerbell, my part pitbull dog. Tinkerbell comes to the Shave and a Haircut with me, she's like the shop mascot. I love dogs, and giving a pitbull the chance is also a reason why I am giving this penpal thing a chance._

_I believe everyone deserves a chance._

_Sorry, I had to leave for work and I didn't want this letter to be seen around the break room. Work today was interesting. I work with my friend but we have a receptionist. I don't really feel comfortable with tell you their names, so A and B will have to do for right now. A is the friend I mentioned, but B is the receptionist. She's almost always late and has an issue with authority. But she has to do this because she needs shop training in order to get her beautician degree. She needs hands on training, but she acts like she's too good. Take today, she was late again and I think I smelled alcohol on her but that wasn't the worse of it._

_You see being a popular barbershop, we have a lot of people setting up appointments. Well she had set up appointments for me, doubling up at the same time on a Monday. This Monday was today and I had two men coming in for their weekly shaves. So at least one was gracious enough to post pone his appointment and reschedule it with A, my friend while I tended to the man that needed the appointment for a big business deal or something like that. B, well we sent her home to clean out her head and hopefully tomorrow will be a better day. A and I have been playing around with getting a new receptionist but finding one on such short notice is a hard thing to do. _

_Anyway, I come from a long line of barbers, my dad learned from his dad and I learned from my dad. Dad isn't doing too well right now and I hope everything turns out all right for him in the long run._

_Well, unfortunately, this is where I have to end it. I know you don't know me very well, but from what I saw on your pen pal article thing, you seemed interesting. So I hope to hear from you._

_Stay safe, stay healthy._

_Sincerely,_

_Rose Miller. _

Seth could hardly believe it, someone finally answered his ad. And to boot, enclosed with the letter was a picture. The woman was, well not really on the pretty side, at least in his opinion. Not a model but she still could turn heads if she wanted to. And she had her arms around a smallish dog, no doubt Tinkerbell. Rose Miller, a sweet souled woman, someone who deserved a chance much like she did with him.

Too bad he didn't have his stuff. That way he could start really getting into writing a response back to her.

* * *

This wasn't the first time Dean had been in a restraint chair. It was really for his own protection and for staff as well. His arms were bound down onto the arms of the chair, his feet were bound to this thing to prevent him from kicking. He could not move anything except for his head. And even though there was a spit guard, to prevent him from spitting at the officers. Now sitting in that restraint chair, in just his prison issue tighty whities, Dean tried his hardest to show that there was nothing in this world that would stop him.

The world gave up on him, that's for damn sure.

The door to his cell clanged open. There was the Warden himself, the man that had hired him to take care of Kurtis Soft. Over Warden Levesque's shoulder, Dean could see the face of Cena looking in.

"Fuck you, Cena." Even if he was restrained Dean attempted to wrench his arms free, rocking the wheeled chair in a vain effort.

Cena, now sporting a nice black eye and several bruises around his bulky neck. That was where Dean had attempted to strangle the beefy armed man for nearly killing his friend.

"I heard what happened in your cell block." Warden Levesque said adjusting his suit tie.

"Yeah? I was giving him his due, Warden." Dean said.

"What do you mean?" Cena asked, earning a glare from the Warden.

"I ain't talking to you, Superman. Get the fuck out of here!" "Calm down, Ambrose." Levesque looked back to the inmate. "What did Inmate Soft do to you?"

"He was talking shit about some dude's daughter. Saw a picture or something. I went up there to warn him to keep his mouth shut and he came at me with a shank. I got it away from him and attacked him in return. You think I was going to stand there and let the fucker attack me."

"Come on, Warden, this is Ambrose. There has to be a reason behind the attack other than a supposed smack talk against some guy's kid."

"Cena, I'm ordering you to step back." Warden said, looking back at the CO. "I've got this under control. There have been other incidents of Kurtis Soft making remarks about juvenile girls before, I've got the reports if you think there aren't. As it stands right now, no one is being charged with anything at the moment. But unfortunately you'll be in The Hole for a while, Ambrose."

"My favorite place to be, Sir." He grinned before Levesque left the cell.

Cena looked in and glared at the man that had put his hands on him.

At least Superman now had something to worry about, Dean thought as the door was banged shut in front of him.

* * *

**I understand this may be graphic, but this is what I know about prison life. So, what do you guys think? I really like the input you guys give. Thanks for reading.**


	6. Chapter 6

Kells was just the place in Portland where Rose had never been to. Mac did and she liked it.

"Hey, there's Sheamus." Mac pointed out to the large man that was standing in front of the bar.

The married man had a skin tight button up vest with a long sleep shirt that was rolled up to the elbows. And like when she hadf met him at the barber shop, Sheamus was wearing another flat cap.

"Hello, Ladies." Sheamus greeted them as they walked up to the front of the bar. "Kaitlyn is waiting for you at the bar. Go on in." He flashed them a big grin and then opened the door.

"Thank you." Rose said before following Mac in.

Kells was the kind of place that was hopping on a Friday night. A lot of sports was going on, especially the soccer kind. There were actually two bars on either side of the building, with a lot of free floating tables and chairs and a few booths in between them. The air was filled with the smell of alcohol and sweat, but at least it was a nonsmoking bar. Rose could handle alcohol, just not smoking. And it wasn't a club, so Rose didn't have to worry about really dressing up. Not that she didn't look good with her black jeans, a graphic tee she had found amongst her old college things and her hair was styled tonight to fit her punkish attire.

"Wow, you two could look like sisters." Mac said, motioning between Kaitlyn and Rose as they approached the other woman.

"Nice, but unfortunately I wasn't graced with a rack like that." Rose made a motion to Kaitlyn's bust line.

Kaitlyn, though obviously more fit and muscular, was wearing an off the shoulder top, black jeans and some sneakers. Though her two toned hair was more stylish than Rose's, Rose was happy with the muted highlight of red in her own hair. Both were bombshells, at least that's what Mac said.

"Come on, sit down." Kaitlyn motioned to the stools on either side of her. "So, what's been going on with you and the shop, your life in general?"

"Nothing much. Just work. We're really thinking about canning the receptionist, but Rose wants her to succeed in her career pursuits." Mac rolled her eyes as she waved over the bartender. "Guinness, please."

"And for you, sweetheart?" The man asked, eying up Rose slightly.

"Uh, Rum and Coke, please and thank you." She answered, leaning on the bar with her forearms.

He smiled, nodded and walked away.

"Well, he was definitely interested in you." Kaitlyn remarked looking at Rose.

"I'm not interested in him. He's bald, too old and really, I'm not interested."

"You're twenty nine, how can you not be interested?" Mac asked.

"Back when I was living in Ohio, well there was one guy that I did like a lot. But it wasn't nothing more than a summer time fling. My grandmother just passed away and I was spending the summer there. Gosh, I was hooked on him like an angler to a bass," she said looking up towards the ceiling. "Since then, I haven't really connected with anyone."

"Did you guys hook up during that summer?" Mac asked, but saw a rosey tint to her friend's face even in the low lighting. "I'll take that as a yes."

"We did, a lot. But he was my first, first boyfriend, first lover and then we just sort of lost contact. With him in Ohio and me living here in Oregon, well it was bound to end for either of us. So, there was that one summer. Brought together with the death of my grandmother, torn apart by distance."

"How poetic." Kaitlyn gushed, smiling at Rose. "First loves are always memorable. Sheamus was mine."

"And the age difference isn't an issue?" Mac asked.

"No, not in anyway. We sort of balance each other out. He's really an old school and I am sort of new school, but we speak muscles."

"Are all his muscles as delicious as he is?" Mac smirked.

"Honey, you have no idea." Kaitlyn laughed, touching her knee before looking back towards the front of Kells. "But he is a sweetie, a great man. Do you guys have one?"

"Had one, in a past life." Rose thanked the bartender when he put her drink down in front of her. "Seeing anyone I don't know about, Mac?"

"Nope, I'm between boyfriends. Well, that did happen once but they were twins and they liked a threesome. But they were good."

"Why am I not surprised? I don't want to know what you do outside of the shop ever again." Rose threw her hands up in the air, laughing along with Kaitlyn and Mac.

Falling into a conversation, the three of them talked about anything and everything over all sorts of topics. As the night wore on, they shared drinks and laughs. Misadventures and summers abroad.

"So did you two get married in Ireland?" Rose asked.

"Yeah, we first got married over in Ireland so that his family could be there to attend. And then when he decided to move here to be with me, well we had a small ceremony for my family since they couldn't be over there. And everyone who knows us knows how much in love we are with each other."

"Must be nice to love someone."

"Why Rosie, are you saying you're actually believe what your mother has been saying?" Mac slurred slightly, having one too many drinks than what she was used to. Which was a lot.

"No, I'm not going to shack up with the first guy I see so she can get a grandchild. But it doesn't mean I can't hope that I will find a guy who, who is," she twirled her hand as she tried finding the right word.

"Who is everything you want and not just a fling." Kaitlyn said, making Rose clap and nod before taking a drink from her glass. "Yeah, that's what I wanted and I found it in an ex convict, in an inmate."

"Has he ever explained prison life in Ireland?" Rose asked.

"Not really, but it was a place where you could film one of those prison movies. I mean, there was fights, killings, things like that. And this is in Ireland. I can only guess what it is like here."

"Probably a lot worse." Mac stated. "Have you written to one yet?"

"Yeah, I sent a letter out last week. But the one and only one I wrote to was out in Florida. He's two years younger than me, named Seth Rollins. He's in for attempted murder but that's all his page said." She watched her ice cubes very carefully. "I mean, his profile was compelling, he looked well taken care of, physically, a beard. Not a lumberjack kind of beard but trimmed. So I sent him a letter. Now I just have to wait until I get a response from him."

"You do know that the prison officials read inmate mail, right?" Kaitlyn asked.

"I didn't make any incriminating stuff. I just told him about me, Tinkerbell, the shop. No I didn't tell him your name, you're A and Jennifer is B, that's all that I could come up with on the spot." Rose held up a hand to prevent Mac from speaking. "But just some of the basic stuff."

"I knew you would respect me. And thanks for not giving out my name."

"He likes to work out, I saw his picture and oh my gosh, he's cute." Either it was the rum speaking or it was her own thoughts speaking out loud, but Rose said it. "And I couldn't help but write to him."

"Oh don't worry, it was the same for me when I saw Sheamus' profile. And then when I got to really know him, well," she smiled as her husband approached. "He was more than I had imagined him to be."

Sheamus smiled at the three women when he came up to the bar. "How are you three?" He asked.

"Great, telling details about our love lives or lack thereof." Mac motioned to Rose.

"Ha, ha, very funny." She laughed in return. "I plan on ending that soon. Can we stop talking about my non existent love life and talk about something different?"

"Sure, there's other juicy things we can talk about. Like my husband loosing his job because he's talking to his wife while he's on his shift." Kaitlyn smiled sexily at the redhead Irishman.

"Sass, that's why I married her." Sheamus stated, kissed the side of Kaitlyn's head and then headed off to do whatever it was that bouncer's did.

"I'm drunk, so don't hold it against me." Mac said watching him leave. "But Kaitlyn, your husband has a nice ass in those jeans."

"Tell me about it."

Rose didn't respond. Instead she looked at the bartender and said, "I want more rum and less coke please." She said holding up her now empty glass.

* * *

A few days had passed since the club. Nothing really had happened in that time, other than the normal stuff.

The work at Shave and A Haircut was relatively back to normal, no screw ups from Jennifer and the friendship Rose and Mac had going on with Sheamus and his wife was stronger than ever. Kells became a weekend thing for them. Jennifer was only ever seen through work and that was enough. With work not having any issues at the moment it had been a rather quiet time for her.

Rose decided to take Tinkerbell out for a walk since there weren't a lot of work on this Tuesday. She and Tinkerbell first walked the block, stopping at the places where Tinkerbell frequented. She also stopped to let the kids at the Downtown Day School who loved the small dog.

"Tinkerbell!" One of the girls yelled running up to the fence that blocked off the downtown playground that was right across the street from the school building.

The school aids and teachers waved at Rose and Tinkerbell, both of who stopped so that the kids and dog could connect through the low fence.

Once the teachers and aids had rounded up the kids to go back inside, Rose and Tinkerbell headed off on their break. A stop back at the apartment to pick up the mail was also on that thing to do. The apartment building's lobby was where the mailboxes were located so she didn't have to go up to her apartment, it was good to just go in, pick up the mail and then head back to the shop. Rose didn't look at all the mail, instead she just shoved them in her large purse and then headed back out again.

Back at the shop- after witnessing a near death in front of her- Rose opened the door and Tinkerbell walked in before her. She had a stack of mail she picked up from her apartment, shuffling through some- mostly bills-but she stopped so that she could take care of Tinkerbell.

"Anything happen while I was gone?" She asked as she unclipped Tinkerbell's leash from her collar.

Happily trotting over to her bed, Tinkerbell laid down and snorted in Jennifer's direction.

"Nothing, no canceling of appointments or scheduled appointments ." Jennifer responded, looking at her. "How was your walk?"

"It was good. I thought I was going to have a panic attack when I saw someone run across the street in front of a Portland bus. But you know this city." Rose said as she flipped through her mail.

As she walked by one envelope slipped out of the pile and landed on the floor, sliding over towards the receptionist desk. Jennifer beat her to picking it up and when she picked it up she saw a telling mark.

"Florida State Prison?" Jennifer asked, looking up at Rose as she held the envelope out of her reach. "What are you doing? I thought I told you, you can't trust anyone from prison."

Rose reached out and snatched up the envelope. "Let me tell you something, Jennifer. This is my life. I can choose what to do with my life. And I would appreciate it if you would not tell my mother every little detail of my life."

There was a heated stare down between the two. Jennifer's brown eyes looking back at Rose's blue ones. Mac came out of the break room right in the middle of the exchange.

"What is going on here?" She asked, breaking the tension like a knife.

"Tell her, Mackenzie, tell her that she will get ruined by talking to inmates." Jennifer waved the envelope around.

"Go fuck yourself." Rose yelled, snatching the letter. "If you cannot stay out of my damn life you can go find a job somewhere else" Rose then walked to the back of the shop, entering the break room.

"You made her curse," Mac told Jennifer. "If you do another stunt like this again, you will be out of a job."

"But this isn't right." Jennifer threw her arms up. "Inmates are bad people, they deserve the hell that they go through."

"I am not going to say my personal thoughts on the issue of inmate. But this is Rose's choice. If it turns out bad then that is something she has to deal with."

"I just want to save her now."

"Some times it's best to let other people learn from their own mistakes." Mac crossed her arms. "Bring this up again, you will more than likely get your pink slip. Rose has always given you the chances, if it were me, your ass will be out on the street soon."

Jennifer sighed, sitting down back at her designated chair as the phone rang. "Shave and A Haircut, this is Jennifer speaking. How can I help you?"

* * *

_Hello Rose,_

_I want to start off by saying that you have a very pretty name. Also I want to thank you for giving me a chance, because not a lot of people have given me a chance through out my life. _

_So, as I you know I'm Seth Rollins. I'm 27 years old but I'll be 28 in March. Yeah, I'm younger than you. I hope you don't mind the age difference._

_And I will be honest with you, I'm a dog person myself so I find it cool that you've got a pitbull. She's really cute. _

_I am originally from Iowa, yeah a long way from Florida. It's a tale that I'm willing to share if you're interested. But all together my life was never the perfect life. I have a Mom, a brother, a dad, but my parents are divorced. What about you, were you raised by a single parent? I know you mentioned that your dad was a barber and that you learned from him. Or am I asking too much of a personal question?_

_You're probably wondering what I'm in here for. And I want to be honest with you, Rose. I really do. Honesty around here is important, sincerity is key to my survival in here. You can be upfront and honest with me and I won't judge you. You see, I made the mistake of attacking my ex girlfriend's lover, nearly killing him. I was working at a gym as a personal trainer and she was seeing this guy behind my back. Well, when I came home early one day they were at it, fucking in my bed. I snapped, and it takes a lot to get me so pissed off. No, I never hurt my ex, I was basically raised by my mom and I knew never to put my hands on a girl. But that guy, he said I was not man enough and I snapped. _

_Prisoners live by a code of ethics. If someone is a rapist, a child killer, a Chester or a Chimo, that means Child Molester, you're as good as dead in here. And when I first got in here it was scary as hell. But I fell into a welcoming group and have found the guys that I consider my friends. I can see how connected you are with your friend if you are willing to open up a barbershop salon. I did get that right, right?_

_I'll leave it here. This is my first time writing a letter and I don't want to scare you away. If you're still interested in writing back, please do. I would love to have a friend outside of prison._

_Respectfully and Sincerely,_

_Seth Rollins._

And there is was. A response to her letter.

As Rose sat in the break room, Seth's letter opened up in front of her, she wondered about some things. Should she write back? After all she was the one that initiated the contact. And he was honest with what he was guilty of. Is that enough for her to write back?

"So, are you going to write back to him?" Mac asked as she stood across the table from Rose.

"I don't know." She folded the letter up and went to her locker that was located back in the work room. "He was honest about what he was put in prison for. He told me he would never hurt a woman, and I want to trust him, but…"

"But you don't want Jennifer's words to be true, huh?"

"Yeah. Am I really crazy for wanting what Kaitlyn and Sheamus has?" Rose looked over her shoulder at Mac.

"I think it's too soon to worry about that right now. I mean you've only wrote what, one letter to him? I think you need to take this slow, like a relationship." She paused. "Listen to me, I haven't had a serious relationship in years and I'm giving you relationship advice. Just, do what you want at your own pace."

That was a hard choice to make in the matter.

* * *

**Well, what do you guys think? I really love your guy's thoughts on this story. They help me a lot. **


	7. Chapter 7

The door banged open. Dean looked up from where he was doing push ups and found Cena looking at him. He'd been released from the full restraint chair twenty four hours after he had been put in it. Now two weeks later it was life in the Hole that had become a normal thing. Locked down about twenty three hours a day, with an hour in the cages for rec or a single man shower, this was all he had.

"Lunch," was all Cena said, holding out the tray.

Right, he thought standing up.

As he reached for the tray, Cena dropped it. The tray clanged to the cement floor, the food sloshing out. Not that he cared for the supposed macaroni and cheese, but still, it was blatant disrespect for Dean. And food was not hand delivered in the cell, it was supposed to go through the slot in the door. Dean knew that Cena was doing this out of spite.

"Oops, my bad." Cena smirked but then straightened up when Dean stepped up close to him.

"Don't worry, Superman, I won't hold this against you. But you do know they have a camera right there." Dean pointed. "They saw you harass an inmate. I can get you written up. You can leave, Superman."

"You wouldn't think of starting something, Ambrose."

"I didn't start anything, Superman." Dean picked up the fallen tray. "Thank you for getting rid of the macaroni and cheese, that shit gives me the runs."

Cena left soon after that, banging the door close behind him.

Over in his cell, Roman was staring at his daughter's picture, the one that she had sent with her recent letter. Her mother had given her a puppy, a small black dog and Roman couldn't stop thinking that it was a way to get her to forget about him.

_Why did you get in trouble, Daddy?_

That question burned at his heart, burned in his head. He screwed it up with her. He wouldn't see her once a month, he wouldn't be able to hug her. Just because the Warden wanted a man killed.

"I love you, Babygirl." He said, running his thumb over her picture.

The slot to the door opened, and he heard Wade's voice. "Chow time, Mate."

Getting up off his bed, Roman headed over to the door. Granted the Englishman was a brute in his own right, over the time that Wade had been delivering food, he'd been supplying other means of supplements to the meals. It wasn't out of the kindness of his own heart, it was for the fact he knew that The Shield would be paying him for months in return. Still, it was something that he would have to live with being that these prison meals weren't very filling for him.

"Sticky bun," Wade added slipping in the packed sweet cake. "You're welcome."

There was a piece of paper that Roman had been writing on. He marked down what he got and what would take to pay it back to Barrett. He had the money on his account to give the Englishman what he could in return, not like Dean. But that was the price he had to pay while being in prison. This was the life he had to live with until his parole hearing.

Seth was enjoying his meal, though undercooked like it normally was, it was filling. He was doodling in the tablet of paper that he was using. His mother had sent him writing supplies, which was highly accepted especially when he told her that someone answered his personal ad on the Internet. He was grateful that he had a support system outside of the prison. Unlike a lot of the other guys, he knew he came from a good background, he made the wrong decision in life to get him in prison but it was enough for him to wake up. There was one thing that had prevented him from getting parole.

The Shield.

Not that he was serious about where he stood within the group, it was hard to operate with morals and with ideals, individuality was not something these guys were made of.

Finishing his meal, he set it up on the food tray slot and proceeded to start doing his work out. The carbs gave him what he needed to do his daily work out. Seth knew that keeping his body in shape was what he needed to do to get through the time that he was stuck in The Hole. Lunges, sit ups, push ups, anything that would get him the strength to get through this whole thing.

"Yo, Roman!" He heard someone call out from down range, since he was up on the second tier. "Check!"

That's when Seth realized that it was Dean. All the yelling and hollering going on was just a chess game between Dean and Roman trying to ignore the fact that not one of them could have any face time with each other. With Roman and Dean being in cells next to each other they could talk. Basically, Seth was separated from them, separate from the three people that he had clicked with since getting there. There weren't any other guys up on the second tier, but the first floor of the Hole was packed. Cell phones were high ranking contraband in prison, shot callers usually carried them bvut with them being illegal most of the guys in the Hole at that time were charged with having contraband or weapons, or some other form of disciplinary actions.

"Fool, try this move…" Roman called out something that dealt with a knight and a square number.

As a response Dean yelled a "Fuck You" in return. This resulted in a cackle laugh from Roman. Cackling from Roman was not something that anyone heard, at all, from the Samoan.

This left Seth in a funk of sorts. He didn't have a neighbor to talk to. He didn't have anything to do besides his work out and the fact that the only mail he ever really received was from his mother. Not that his brother bothered contacting Seth about anything, he had to learn from his mother that he was going to be an uncle later on in the year.

Then his eyes scanned to the other envelope that had come in the mail that day. He had expected it to be from Rose but it wasn't. Some chick named Jennifer had sent him a letter but he hadn't opened it. Finally bored out of his mind, during the break that he had from his workout, Seth reached over and opened the envelope.

* * *

_Dear Seth,_

_How are you? Me, well I'm fine. Actually, I'm sure you're wondering where I got your contact information, right. Well a friend of mind gave me your address and suggested that I give you a try. You, as in a prisoner pen pal. _

_So, I am Jennifer. I work as a beautician at this cool place here in Portland, Oregon. It's very popular. I am twenty-three and I just moved out on my own with my own place near the Willamette River here in Portland. I don't have any pets, I'm not really an animal person. My friend told me that you like dogs. I think that's cool. _

_I like style, style means everything to me. I have to have the best, I mean what girl wouldn't? What about you, do you like a girl with style?_

_What do you do in prison? Honestly, I never thought about writing to a prisoner before. This is something new to me. If you have any other friends who need a pen pal, I would enjoy the chance of getting to know new people. I really am an assertive people person, I just love to be around people. _

_Well, with this being my first letter, I don't really know what to say in these things. I mean, when I deal with people face to face, I don't really have a problem, but speaking through paper is a different experience for me._

_So, yeah. I hope to hear back from you, Seth._

_Yours Truly,_

_Jennifer._

* * *

Seth put the letter down. Something was different about this woman, whoever she was. He sat back and thought about whatever was going on. It sounded like this woman was sure of herself, yes, but there was a cockiness that he didn't care for. But he wasn't so sure about it. This Jennifer woman did not send a picture with her letter, but with the fine handwriting so she did have a level of intelligence to take pride in her pen work.

Seth took out a piece of paper and started writing a responding letter.

* * *

_Dear Jennifer,_

_I am doing fine, thanks for asking. I hope you're doing well by the time you get this letter. _

_While it was a shock to get a letter from you it was still nice to know that someone took time out to write to me at all. I may be here in Florida, but I am actually from Iowa. I have a mom, a dad and a brother but my parents are separated and I will be an uncle later on this year. You didn't really mention your family life. What is it like for you? I really am interested._

_What is it like living in Portland? I hear it is an interesting place. I've never been there. I've been to Chicago, Illinois before. Actually that is where I went to college for physical training, I was a personal trainer before I went into prison. I had a thought that maybe I would find a better life down here in Florida and I yet here I sit in prison for attempted murder. _

_Yes, I do like dogs. I want to own a dog when I am a free man. I would also like to travel if it is at all possible for me. I first would try to go back to Iowa, see my family and hope to start over new for me. _

_In prison, you have to know how to deal with people. There is always a hustle of some sort going on and you have to watch what you say to people. Otherwise you could get your mouth busted in, or get a shank in your gut. And even some of the CO, the Correction Officers, aren't all on the straight and narrow. There are one or two around here that want to start something with us, who disrespect us. Respect around here is earned, not given._

_I can only guess what you do as a job. For me I have to stay in top health, I have to stay in peak mental health because a place like this can break anyone. I know it has for a friend of mine that I am extremely close with. He's like a brother to me._

_So this is where I let you go. May I ask if I can get a picture from you? That way I can put the face to the person who writes to me. _

_So, stay safe._

_Sincerely,_

_Seth_

* * *

Once he had finished the letter, Seth decided to mail it out, not sure if this Jennifer woman would be the one to write back to him. Being in The Hole made writing to people a bit difficult. And yet this was all he had going for him.

* * *

The very next day, after breakfast, mail call came for the inmates in The Hole. Dean, of course, didn't get anything, Roman had a letter from his daughter again, but this time it was added with a letter from his ex.

_Kaya has no right to call you Daddy, Roman. After all the shit that you have pulled in her life, you don't deserve to see her. But because you have part custody of her I have to let her come see you. You're nothing but a dead beat dad. You're not there for her and now that I have a new man in my life, someone who can properly take care of her. Just wait, she won't remember you at all._

Roman roared, crumbling up the letter and tossing it. Roaring again, Roman punched his door. Which he shouldn't have done, instantly his knuckle busted open and blood spilling out of his fist. Roman didn't care, he didn't even notice that he had been hurt as he paced the four or three steps to pace in the cell. He was fuming. How dare she do this, didn't she have any consciousness about anything?

"Yo, Dude, what's up?" He heard Dean holler out of his open tray door.

"My daughter's mother threatened to make my daughter forget about me." He bent down to yell out of his own food tray slot. "The bitch says I'm a dead beat dad."

"Man you chose the wrong woman to sleep with. Glad I don't have that." Of course he would be. "Good thing I don't have a kid either."

"I just, I don't want to loose the only woman I have in my life."

"You're daughter isn't a woman, she's six years old."

Rolling his gray eyes, Roman sighed. "Dude, you get what I mean. The only women in my life that matter are my mother and my daughter. They mean the world to me."

"So you've said before."

"I mean it, Dean. Just being in here now, I don't want to fuck it up for Kaya."

Dean sat back for a brief moment. His friend had a reason to go straight, to be a straight and arrow kind of person in life. He wasn't sure what Seth wanted out of life.

"You there, Man?" Dean heard Roman ask.

"Yeah, just thinking. You going back to life on the streets once you get out?"

"Not if I can help it." Just as Dean thought, Roman was going to go at it straight. "But the gang life is hard to get out of."

"Which is why I never got into one." Dean said. "If I have to shed blood to get in then I will have to shed blood to get out."

Blood in and blood out, that was the rules of a lot of gangs. That was the code that Roman had grown up with and the thought that his kingpin father would let him out of it with his life scared him. The Samoan Syndicate was a scary thing to deal with especially in the Pensacola and in areas of Alabama. But with this latest drug charge, well Roman was willing to just leave it all behind.

And it wasn't just Roman who was thinking of leaving prison life behind, Seth was too.

"Mail call, Rollins." A female CO said opening his food tray door.

He got up from doing his sit ups and went to the door. "Thanks." He said as he took the envelope from the older woman.

Just one envelope, one with one name written on it.

_Hey Seth,_

_It's me again, Rose. How are you doing? You can tell me the truth about anything going on with you._

_You may find this strange, but I caught a few of those prison shows from National Geographic and MSNBC, Lockup, Lockdown, Hard Time and all of those because I want to understand the life that you have to live with. I can see the dangers and the things you have to live without while in prison. What is the one thing that you miss? Family, right? I know I would miss my mom. _

_And honesty is something that I know you would want. So I will give it to you. My mom some how found out that I was writing to you. She is one of those people that are old school parents who thinks that prisoners are con artists and very bad people. I know that a most of the people in there have done bad things, who are still doing them But I think you are someone that is somehow different._

Seth sat back and smiled it. This woman was great, she thought highly of him and understood the stresses of his life right there in the prison. Propping his arm up on the metal table, Seth continued to read Rose's letter.

_Today, Tinkerbell and I stopped at a local park where a day school let's its students out for recess. Recess happens during my break at Shave where I take Tinkerbell out for a walk. The kids love Tinkerbell. We are sort of famous in that area, even the teachers and teachers aids let the kids pet Tinkerbell through the fence. This playground is literally surrounded by four roads, one way streets in the Pearl District of Portland. It's really beautiful down there. No wonder why I enjoy walking and working in this area._

_What sort of books do you like to read? I ask this because after work I had asked my coworker A to watch Tinkerbell while I went two blocks away to a place that is almost an icon in Portland. It's called Powells City of Books. It is a bookstore that takes up an entire city block with four stories to it. I wanted to get a book, something different. I'm a big fantasy nerd, I loved dragons, elves and stuff like that. But finding a book by Patricia Briggs about werewolves and shapeshifters, wow, I liked it. I was just reading into chapter two when I opted to write back._

_I am sorry that I haven't gotten back to your response, my mother's words were just playing around in my head. She thinks this is my pursuit to find a husband the easy way, you know. Granted, I am almost thirty I can't say that I am looking for a husband but I am interested in meeting people, people outside of my lifestyle. _

_With that being said, I think you're a beautiful man. The picture up on your ad, well even though it shows a bad ass, I see a human with a story in him. I see a man that has seen a lot more than anyone else and you are someone I want to get to know better._

_So, stay safe and stay healthy._

_Your Friend,_

_Rose._

* * *

This, this is what Seth looked forward to. This is what he had been looking forward to. This was someone who had taken a liking to him, telling him the things that she did with her life. Normal things like walking a dog and the things outside of these walls gave him an idea what a normal life was like. This is what he wanted to hear. Someone telling him that he was a beautiful man, someone who deserved the friendship that he wanted to give. Instantly, Seth reached over, forgetting about his own work out routine at that moment and decided to respond to Rose's letter as fast as he could.

* * *

**Sorry, this took a bit to get out. I had a minor case of the blahs and couldn't get anything out for this update. I hope you guys liked this. Thanks for reading, everyone.**


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